The sealed letter was within arm's reach and Henry leaned forward to take it off the table, sitting down on his bed so he could at least get comfortable before he decided to read who it was from. He even pulled the table closer so the candelabra sitting on it would allow him to read the words more easily.
Immediately, he remembered the letter being handed to him before he even left for Chemois. He felt dread welling up inside of him, hoping that it wasn't someone expecting an immediate response. He had the letter in his possession for more than twenty days and hadn't even bothered breaking the seal.
A maid must have been dealing with his clothing and found it in one of the pockets.
As he looked around the room, wondering where his belongings had gone, he couldn't keep from thinking it was strange to have every one of his possessions handled by another person. It brought up the complicated feelings he had about servants and maids.
